


Worth Fighting For

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: 2020 Charity Fundraiser One-Shots for RAINN [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Nipple Play, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 08:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Cullen Rutherford marries the love of his life at Halamshiral. They take some time to celebrate the occasion and their love.
Relationships: Dahliana Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Series: 2020 Charity Fundraiser One-Shots for RAINN [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913077
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yadania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yadania/gifts).



> This is part of my Charity Fundraiser! All of the proceeds go to RAINN.org to help survivors of sexual violence. Thank you Pooky for trusting me with your darling Inquisitor and Cullen on their special night!

Everything was worth fighting for. 

_Especially her._

Dahliana’s hair was studded with exotic, fragrant blooms that formed a crown upon her temples. Cullen didn’t know the names of any of them, but he’d seen them all in the places he followed her. They usually grew in the hardest, most desolate places. They sprung from cliff faces, crowded around a desert oasis, covered logs long dead.

They heralded new life. Hope. Just as _she_ did. Not just for him, of course, but for all of them. Nobody else could do what she had managed, nobody else could thrive through a war and nurture a fragile peace.

Only his love. Only Dahliana. 

“Vhenan?” She called, squeezing his hand. It was only then that Cullen realized he had stopped long enough to allow Dahliana to step several paces in front of him. She turned to look back over her slim shoulder, blue eyes sparkling with joy. 

She was a sight for sore eyes wearing that white, gauzy dress accented with delicate bits of gold. The train draped elegantly down the steps they were climbing, the sleeves almost hid her long fingers. It was a beautiful gown, perfect for the day they married. 

His _wife_ in her _wedding_ dress on their _wedding day_. 

Cullen chuckled warmly, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to the back of her palm. “I’m a lucky man.” 

She colored, prettily pink beneath the elegant ink of her vallaslin. Her smile, always just the slightest edge of shy even after their years together, was enough to make him ache with her loveliness. 

“I think I’m the lucky one.” She whispered. 

Her bright eyes darted up the steps, measuring the distance to her rooms. _Their_ rooms, he supposed. Surely, they would never expect him to be separated from his wife? 

“There’s a Ferelden tradition.” Cullen climbed the steps until he drew even with her, tugging her gently to his broad chest. 

She tipped her chin up, free hand coming to rest over the heart that was surely hers and always would be. He bent low to capture her lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. One that made her fingers tighten in his uniform coat. 

“I would like to perform it. My parents always said it meant good luck.” Cullen whispered breathlessly against her cherry lips. Dahliana nodded instantly. 

“Anything you wish, ara lath.” She responded, her smile growing slightly bolder. “Ara’isha. My husband.” 

“Ara’isha.” Cullen repeated. “And my wife is?” 

“Ara’asha.”

“Ara’asha.” When he said it, emotions blossomed bright and intense in Dahliana’s sapphire gaze. “My wife.” 

“Always.” She blinked quickly, tears of joy crinkling at the corners of her eyes. 

Cullen brought his lips to her temple and kissed the skin there, inhaling the delicate, heady fragrance of the blossoms in her hair. “Are you ready?” 

She nodded, smiling hopefully. Cullen returned it, tucking a lock of hair back behind the pointed lobe of her ear. He tightened his arms around her form, holding her in an embrace for only a moment before he swung her up into his arms. 

A flower fell from her hair onto the stairs when she tipped her head back and giggled, arms winding around his neck. “This is your Ferelden tradition?”

“We carry the bride over the threshold.” Cullen explained, offering his own tentative smile.

“And if there is no bride?” Dahliana asked curiously. 

“I suppose the strongest groom has to do it.” 

Her airy laughter rang like bells across the opulent marble halls of Halamshiral and made him beam with the same wild, joyful delight. She nuzzled into his neck, tracing her nose over his jaw. The tiny gesture, an intimate tease, made his reverent desire bloom into a tornado of lust. 

Her words were teasing puffs of air on heated skin. “What happens after we cross the threshold?”

“I plan to ravish my wife.” 

His admission turned her pink flush into raging crimson, the whole way up her pointed ears. She clutched at his neck, nails lightly raking through the hair at the nape of his neck. His name was a gasp of desire. 

“ _Cullen_.” 

The sound sent a jolt as electric as magic through him. He took the rest of the stairs as quickly as he could, holding her tight to his chest. He didn’t quite sprint to the door, mindful of propriety even with his fraying control, but it was damn close.

Two armed guards, hand selected by him, stood outside Dahliana’s rooms. They both sprung to attention at his booted footsteps, but the second they saw him and his precious burden, their mouths dropped open. 

“Dismissed.” Cullen barked, shifting his wife to grab the jeweled door handle. 

“Ser?” One of the guards sputtered, blushing as she looked at Dahliana in his arms. 

He growled out his order again. “ _Dismissed,_ soldier.” 

The woman made a snap decision to simply salute and retreat. 

Solid tactics. Cullen approved of her strategy. 

He threw the door open and spun in one movement to kick it shut behind him. The second it shuddered in it’s frame, Dahliana’s fingers drifted to the brass buttons on his dress uniform. Her soft lips traced a gentle path up his jaw while he staggered through the decadent Orlesian rooms. 

She pressed a searing kiss just below his ear, whispering his name again. “Cullen, _take me_.”

He hissed, ducking through the last door and barreling into Dahliana’s borrowed bedroom. Windows had already been opened, the same rich floral scent drifting in past fluttering curtains, sunlight warming the intimate space. 

Cullen dropped his bride on the rich sapphire bedspread, the same color as her wide eyes, watching her bounce before she settled. In the second it took, she reached for him, deft fingers continuing to undo his buttons until the jacket hung open. 

Cullen slipped it down his shoulders, leaving him in the thin shirt beneath. Her small hands slipped beneath the fabric, pushing it up over the muscles of his abdomen. Her nails scratched gently against sensitive skin and he moaned, closing his eyes against the sinful vision before him. 

Which meant he missed his lover, his _wife_ , leaning forward to press another kiss bordering on filthy over the hard planes of his muscles. 

“Dahliana-” He reached to cord his fingers through her hair immediately, looking down into her glittering eyes. Another flower fell to the blankets beneath her.

“I want you.” Her fingers kept inching the shirt up, inch by desperate inch. “Vhenan, _please_.” 

It was common knowledge the Commander couldn’t tell the Inquisitor no. This was no different. His mouth went dry and he nodded, breathless, reaching to capture her slim wrists in his sword calloused hands. 

“I need to get you out of that dress.” 

He felt her pulse thud unevenly beneath his fingers. She nodded and he released his grip. 

She spun on the bed, presenting the long line of her back to him. He discarded the shirt over his head quickly before reaching for the buttons on Dahliana’s dress with shaking fingers. The delicate, pearl-shaped closures came undone one by one while she squirmed on her knees. 

He couldn’t blame her. He felt as desperate as she must, especially when the gown sagged off her pale shoulders and revealed the glorious expanse of her back. He ran his knuckles down the curve of her spine and she arched into his touch. 

“Maker’s _breath_.” He whispered, hoarse. 

What had he done to deserve her? 

His hands almost covered her shoulders as he pushed the billowing sleeves down her arms. Unable to resist, he crowded onto the bed behind her, pulling her flush to his chest while he slid the gown off her beautiful curves into a puddle of silk at her knees.

He pressed a heated kiss to the lobe of her ear that made Dahliana shudder while his broad hands trailed back up her skin. He felt the wispy fabric of her smalls, the curve of her stomach, the dip of her waist, and then perfect breasts that fit in his hands just right. 

“You are so beautiful.” He murmured, nosing her ear. 

His thumbs caressed the hard points of her nipples until she gasped. He trailed his lips down her swan’s neck until he pressed another greedy kiss over her thundering pulse while he teased the sensitive buds. 

“Cullen-” She whimpered, pressing insistently into his hands. “Ar lath ma. Vhenan, please, I-” 

“I want to touch you.”

Cullen allowed one hand to trail down her stomach, feeling the muscles jump beneath his touch. Her hips rolled towards his hand, eager for him. 

“Yes. Yes, Cullen, touch me!” 

Her order fell into a pleased moan when he slid his fingers beneath the flimsy material of her smells. He groaned in pleased surprise to find her slick with arousal before he even started. 

“I want you.” He panted, running his finger down her sensitive cleft. “I _need_ you.” 

“I’m yours, vhenan.” 

More beautiful words had never been spoken. His cock pulsed, hard and insistent, in his breeches but he had to touch her first. Had to treasure her and this moment. Closing his eyes, he buried his face into her shoulder and slipped a finger into her searing core. 

They both moaned together, her hips chasing his finger as he pumped shallowly in and out of her pulsing sheathe before dragging forward, circling the familiar bundle of nerves he found there. 

Her head tipped back, losing herself in the pleasure he conjured. One hand continued to knead the tender, sensitive breast in his grip while the other stroked her clit, sending the pitch of her moans higher. Her legs shook with the effort to hold herself on her knees, her body pressing into his weight, leaning on him like he was the only thing keeping her upright. 

“Beautiful.” He whispered against her soft skin, punctuating his statement with a tender nip. 

“You are… you are everything to me. My love. My light. My _wife_.” 

Her delicate fingers scrambled against his forearm, tiny needy noises falling from her soft lips. He continued to mercilessly tease her swollen clit, listening to her little prayers in her mother tongue drip from her lips. 

Then her whole body went taut as a bow string. Her mouth opened on a low, keening moan, nails digging for purchase on his sweat slick skin. He held her tightly, pressing kisses to her warm skin as she rode her pleasure on his fingers before she fell back against him, gasping his name. 

He laid her back on the silken covers to catch her breath, even though she made a little hiss of displeasure as he left her side. He only retreated long enough to discard her gown on the floor and remove his too-tight breeches and boots, throwing them to the side impatiently. 

Dahliana looked at him through half-lidded eyes, holding out a hand for him in silent invitation. Cullen settled himself back on the bed, pulling her beloved form back to his chest and into his lap, crashing their lips together. 

She met his passion with her own, trembling with desire when she rolled her hips against his. His length dragged through her slick folds and they both broke apart, breathing heavily. 

Her bright eyes blazed into his, full of everything he’d ever wished. Love. Life. _Hope_. 

“Dahliana.” He whispered, her name the most beloved prayer he’d ever uttered. 

Her small hand wrapped around his length and guided him to her entrance. He jerked forward, hands finding the pert globes of her rear. She cried out, wrapping her arms around him, burying her face in his broad shoulders. 

He could hear nothing but snatches of Elvhen before she switched to common, urging him on. “More. Cullen, _more_.” 

She didn’t have to ask twice. He lifted her and rocked his hips at the same time, drawing another triumphant cry from his bride. Every thrust was met by her own wanton movement, drawing them both dizzyingly closer to the edge. 

Cullen buried his nose in her hair, the scent of flowers intoxicating, the feel of her clenching muscles overwhelming. She sobbed his name, nipping at his shoulder, and that was enough to send liquid heat down his spine. 

She fell apart around him once more as he continued to thrust, jerky and stiff before hilting himself in her welcoming heat. He moaned in her ear, holding her tight, as he spilled himself inside her, claiming her as his wife forevermore. 

“I love you.” He breathed, cradling her. “I love you, I always will.” 

Her marked hand brushed his jaw, the sickly green light of the anchor sputtering menacingly. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She mumbled. “Always. This was worth fighting for.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen wakes up beside his new wife for the first time and finds they have a little bit of time to spare before rejoining the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter for Pooky for her birthday! Thank you for spreading such joy and beauty with your art and I hope you have a lovely birthday!

Cullen woke up, as he usually did, with the sun rising. Rays of light fell through the sheer, impractical curtains. It lit the room in rosy pinks and warm oranges. Outside, he heard familiar songbirds chirping. 

He tipped his head to the side, heart stuttering nearly to a stop. Beside him, Dahliana slept peacefully on her side. The blanket was tangled around her waist, one arm stretched across as if she’d reached for him even deep within the fade. 

_His wife._ The thought brought an amazed smile to his lips, one torn between delight and disbelief. He’d married Dahliana, and today was the first of the rest of their lives together.

One of the flowers from the evening before, wilting now, was still tangled in her long brown hair. Chuckling to himself, he slowly turned to face her. Sword calloused fingertips brushed over the line of her cheekbone before gently untangling the bloom from its place. He dropped it onto the mattress before noting Dahliana’s sapphire eyes were open and fixed on him.

“On dhea.” Dahliana whispered, her lips curling into a beatific smile. 

“Good morning.” Cullen answered. 

It felt… oddly formal, and the back of his neck heat at the stilted words. Shaking his head, he let his broad hands run down her slim, bare shoulder. 

“Did you sleep well-” He asked, coughing to clear his throat before adding the tentative addendum. “-my wife?” 

Dahliana’s smile was a match for the morning sun itself, as brilliant an expression as he’d ever seen. She closed the meager distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Cullen’s lips before she pulled back. 

“I did.” Her thin fingers caressed his jaw while she nuzzled into his neck. “And you?” 

Cullen closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tight around her frame, pressing her naked skin greedily to his. “I… I had a peaceful night. Thank the Maker.”

He didn’t always, but the bad nights had gotten fewer in their years together. Perhaps it was the further he got from the lyrium the easier it was. Or perhaps his works of atonement, his love, and his new purpose had begun to heal his soul.

In any case, peace had been easier to find, and it would come even easier now with his wife at his side. 

Cullen pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the soft floral scent still lingering. His hand trailed down the curve of her spine and she pressed eagerly closer to him, tipping her chin up for a second kiss. One that turned into a lingering, blissful third. Cullen drifted on the heady taste of her lips, the small sound of delight that escaped her when his tongue pressed for entrance and she opened to his advance. 

Then she tossed a leg over his thigh and Cullen hissed, feeling the heat of her core against the straining length of his cock. She giggled, pulling away to meet his gaze with a twinkle of mischief. 

“Vhenan…” She whispered, hooking her leg around his waist. “We have some time.” 

They didn’t, _really_. There was business to be accomplished and they’d already indulgently stolen enough time from the Inquisition. But her eyes pleaded for him, her delicate fingers curled into the muscles of his arm, and she _smiled_. 

Maker’s breath, that _smile_. He’d do _anything_ for that smile.

Cullen rolled over, pinning Dahliana lightly between his bulk and the mattress. Instantly, her fingers tangled in his mused curls, his name coming out in a pleased gasp. “Cullen-” 

“Dahliana.” He whispered, capturing her in another endless kiss. She arched up into his touch, arms and legs twining around him like vines, holding him close to her. His cock brushed her sensitive folds again and she gasped into his kiss. 

She was still slick from their lovemaking the night before, it took only a shift of his hips to slide inside her. She cried out, head tipping back, hair spilling across their pillows. 

Cullen’s greedy gaze swallowed up the way she colored underneath her vallaslin, her eyes cloudy with lust and desire. Cullen paused, buried to the hilt, to feel her heat surrounding him. 

When he withdrew until only the head of his manhood remained, Dahliana whimpered at the loss. He waited, drawing the moment out until her hips bucked beneath him wantonly. Then, in one swift motion, he thrust into her willing body. 

A sharp cry pierced the air around them, but he smothered it with his lips on hers. Her nails dragged across his shoulders while she scrambled to hold on as he set a pace just the right side of eager, tearing tiny moans and whimpers from deep within her throat. 

He hitched her leg higher, throwing it over his shoulder so he could sink deeper into her. Dahliana’s spine curled off the bed, her pert breasts jiggling with each thrust. Fire licked his veins while he watched her body flush, trembling beneath him. The hand not supporting his weight came to brush her pebbled nipples.

Her fingers dived for the juncture of her thighs, circling her clit. Her eyes closed on a sharp gasp as his fingers gently pinched one nipple, lips falling open in a perfect o. At the same time, her fingers found a furious rhythm, her sheathe pulsing around him. 

A torrent of Elvhen and his name fell from her lips as her orgasm crashed over her. With a muted growl of his own, his pace became rougher, unsteady, before he buried himself deep within her, emptying himself into her core with a groan. 

Dahliana melted back into the mattress with a sleepy, satisfied smile. Cullen held himself still above her for a moment, enjoying the feel of her searing heat surrounding his softening member. Then, slowly, he rolled away and collapsed beside her. 

Before he could even reach for her, Dahliana was curling into his chest, brushing her fingers over his abdomen. 

“A very good morning, apparently.” Cullen murmured.

The only answer was her tinkling, mischievous laughter. “The first of many, vhenan.” 


End file.
